The Final Chair
by Vitalis Obitus
Summary: There are still chair with no one to sit on them at Salems table. One such occupant has only sat there twice. After all, deep cover missions afford little trips to the most dangerous place in Remnant. Rated T for character death (kinda)


**Just something I wanted to write. Also to let you guys know, yes, I'm still alive! And yes, I have, unfortunatly, removed some of my fics. They weren't going to be continued, and I dislike them sitting there, knowing people are reading them, then wanting another chapter that will never come. My apologies to those people, but here's a kinda parody fic that (kinda) makes sense. (?)**

 **Anyway, enjoy!**

 **XxXXxXXxX**

Oft is it said that the best place to hide is in plain sight.

A man seen by the protagonists of this legend, and many other who have since faded into obscurity, was one such example of this. He was hidden so well, that even his allies failed to recognise him. One might think this a foley, but for this man, no feat was too dangerous.

When those thugs broke into his shop and place of residence, he played the part of the scared victim. He cowered in his boots. The cameras were still running, and he could not attract attention. He was 'saved' by a promising young girl with an overly large farming tool. She fought off the goons, then before running after after the ring leader, stopped to check on him. He nodded at her question, barely paying attention to her words.

Silver Eyes.

It was then, he decided, he would follow her. Especially after he witnessed her being taken away by an all too familiar huntress. One who would, no doubt, be in league with 'Him'.

His gut was proven right once again when he next encountered her. Albeit, she did not see him. His shop was raided once more, this time, without the Huntress-In-Training to help him, everything but the money was stolen.

He watched from the sidelines as her, and three other girls, presumable her team from Beacon, ran off after a faunus. So, the girl had made it to Beacon. It was time to give up on the Dust business, then. The Vytal festival was drawing closer. It be simple to get closer to them during that time if he could have a stall there. If he wasn't mistaken, one of the four was hiding something under that bow she wore. And if the way she spoke in defence of the Faunus was something to go on, he was right about that, too. Perhaps he could use that to his advantage, somehow.

It wasn't long after that, when he had a food stall set up near a highway. A good place for fast food, and a better place to establish his cover for the Festival. Luck struck a third time, when the same Monkey Faunus and his friend seemed to fall from the highway, directly into his store, even as a Paladin rampaged across the busy road.

That was certainly an interesting day. He learned a lot from those two, most of it useless blabber about how amazing 'Blake' and 'Weiss' were, but it gave him a lot to work with.

Come the Festival, he had established himself and found a stall. It was still boring work, but it put him in the middle of everything. He knew what was coming. Or at least, the basics of it. He was about as out of the loop as one could be, but he knew how to keep his ear to the ground better than anyone. Even Ozpin's legendary 'spy master' couldn't hold a candle to him.

Even still, he was not scared.

There, he met another team close to the first he watched. A mixed bunch, to be sure. He made sure to make the 'Weiss' he was forced to hear so much about embarrassed over her card being declined. Petty, he would admit, but endlessly satisfying.

The Mistraillian Champion had to ruin his fun, however, by paying for their meal. But at the very least, not two days later, she perished. Karma worked pretty fast, he thought with a chuckle. It was then he departed Vale. He had learned that the Silver Eyed girl would be heading to Mistril. He absent mindedly wondered if his old friend would stop them there, if they weren't defeated by that man along the way. He shuddered at the thought. No one deserved such a fate. Except perhaps customers who believed they could never be wrong. Those people deserved everything they got.

It wasn't until he was standing over them, having torn the Silver Eyes from their sockets, pulled the metal arm into the still healing stab wound on the Faunus, and crushed Weiss' arm into her own torso that he finally smiled a true smile.

Salem would reward him greatly for this, of that, he was sure. Of all her pawns, young and old, he was the slowest, but also the only one to get the job done.

"No one suspects the Shopkeeper." He quipped with a grin as four huntresses laid before him in various states of abject horror and defeat.


End file.
